Terror arrives out of the sky

The first B52 of today arrived in a cloudless sky as I was finishing my morning tea.

By the time I'd clambered onto the roof of my rented mud house, it had dropped its load and I watched as the earth erupted - that is the only way to describe it - on the Taliban lines north of Kabul.

By the time I got to the frontline, the ruined village of Khalozi, the second B52 had arrived. Like the first, the great gullwinged plane flew straight towards the Taliban, then having released its bombs it made a slow, lazy turn and flew away.

From my position on top of a metal container, which blocks the road, the targets are clear to see.

The Americans are hitting Taliban units dug in on either side of the road - the Salang Highway, which carried Soviet troops to Kabul more than 20 years ago. From this range, the sight of the explosions and the sounds come close together and the detonation from the carpet bombing hits you hard in the chest.

In among the B52 strikes comes a series of attacks by smaller planes. These jets are almost invisible in the bright sun as they twist and turn and scream on their bombing runs. As they fly around, the chatter of anti-aircraft fire comes from the Taliban uselessly trying to target the fast-flying bombers.

Further behind us, buildings along the Salang Highway on the Northern Alliance side of the line are crowded with men and children. For the Alliance, which has known little but defeat in seven years of war against the Taliban, this is great spectator sport.